


It Isn't Working 'Til It Is

by fourfreedoms



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:43:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourfreedoms/pseuds/fourfreedoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared has a shot at starting quarterback on the football team when it all comes crashing down on him. Suddenly the entire world thinks he's gay, and his parents' solution is to send him off to a gay conversion camp. Mad hijinks and one Jensen Ackles ensues.</p><p>But I'm A Cheerleader AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Isn't Working 'Til It Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Micmezle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Micmezle).



Lockers slammed around him, the smell of sweat and damp and Axe practically a permeable force in the air. Bodies glowed with sweat and the running trails of shower water, healthy muscles glistening, skin smooth and soft with youth.

Another locker slammed next to his head. He jumped.

“So, there’s this party,” Andrew said as he pulled his messenger bag over his shoulder. Jared tore his eyes away from his teammates under the showers and resumed toweling himself off. “Linda Stone, who’s fuckin’ stacked, and like, the entire gymnastics team, are gonna be there...”

“Mmhm,” Jared said absently, noting the slow sensual way that Evan Greene, the running back, ran his towel over his body. Andrew was still going on and on about girls and their boobs and their butts and their hair. Seriously not that interesting. He let out a breath as Evan pulled his shirt on, all that muscle positively perfect for throwing the ball to Jared who—

“But I forgot,” Andrew interrupted his train of thought, “you have a girlfriend.”

“Hmm? Oh yeah.” He gathered his gym bag and backpack up and clapped Andrew solidly on the shoulder. "Gotta run, or I'll miss her."

He completely missed the way his teammate shook his head in despair in his sudden rush to leave. He couldn’t forget the girlfriend, or she’d tear his balls off. The last time he'd been late she'd pouted the entire way and then required, _required_ if such a thing was possible, him to go down on her until his jaw was soar. The whole time he'd really just wanted to go with the guys to the burger joint up the road and watch Evan’s throat as he swallowed down coke and—

“Hey, Jared!” Chad, the captain of the football team, inserted himself into his fantasy and brought it crashing down.

“Oh, hi,” Jared replied, slightly disgruntled.

Chad smiled. “That was a great pass today, you’re gonna make a great starting QB this season.”

Jared ducked his head and blushed, his peevishness abating at the compliment. Chad’s lips tilted and something sort of froze in place, and oh, Chad actually looked attractive like that. Hopefully it would help with the girls. Chad was nice and all, but he had a habit of saying things that…well, to put it nicely, got him in trouble. And he’d slept with the entire freshman dance team, which was probably illegal. Jared was pretty sure at least three of them were only fourteen.

“Thanks, Chad,” he said softly as he left. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to meet Alexis. Chad gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder and grinned before taking off in the other direction.

Alexis was sitting on the hood of his car, surveying her nails and popping gum when he walked up to meet her. He thought briefly about turning tale and running, but then he wouldn't have anyway to get him. It was just...she was wearing this obscene parody of a schoolgirl uniform, and all the other boys walking past seemed to have something drastically wrong with their necks. They were all craned to the side, like they were trying to look up Alexis's skirt. Jared tried not to be embarrassed for them. It seemed totally uncouth to do something like that to her. Even if she did have a surprising thirst for oral sex.

Her blue eyes flashed when she saw him. “Ooooh, snugglebear.” She jumped off the car and into his arms, pressing lipstick kisses all over Jared’s face. He wondered if he good buy Purell for his face as he tolerated it. After a methodically thought out period of time, he pulled away and went to the driver’s side. Had she scratched the paint on the hood with the weight of her body? Or the scratchy decals on her backpack? Jared winced at the thought.

“I haven’t seen you since like lunch,” she told him as she got in and flipped her ponytail. Jared was impervious. “How was your day?”

“Well it was fine. I—”

“That’s good,” she cut him off and he sighed. “Tristy and Mindy and I are making the banner for your next game and they were totally like, spilling paint all over the place and I was like, guys, come on, it’s not that hard to like get paint in like, the right place, you know? And they were like, no freakin' joke, the biggest freakin’ bitches and you know what, I don’t deserve that! I’m nice, I give them makeovers practically everyday and it’s my Sephora money. I mean...”

Jared drifted off, fantasizing about entering her into a speed-talking competition. She'd win and there'd be a cash prize, and she would leave and dump him, and everybody would understand immediately why he wouldn't want another girlfriend. But that was uncharitable. She had big breasty...things and wore unseasonably short skirts even in the coldest of weather. That was perfect girlfriend material. He knew this because Andrew and Evan and Chad had said as much on many, many occasions.

He pulled up in front of her house in record time. She’d already exhausted the topics of lipgloss flavor (watermelon), what roses she wanted at her wedding (peach), whether Sophia’s boobs were real (nope), and who had the nicest hair on Lost (Josh Holloway). Jared hadn’t contributed a word.

“Ooh, snugglebear, home already, I wish you could come inside, but your parents are so protective!” she complained. It was an age-old grievance. Jared had to be home by four on the weekdays, and he was never allowed to be with Alexis unless they were at his house. God only knew what they’d get up to otherwise. That’s what his mom said anyway. Like he didn't have a car.

“Goodbye kiss,” she ordered, leaning in for their perfunctory parting liplock. Jared tried not to wince as she mashed her face into his, slobbering all over and poking at him with her tongue. He opened his eyes and zoned out, stomach churning just slightly. He watched the sidewalk in front of her house, and barely paid attention to the oral stimulation he was receiving. Best way to get through it.

A tall blond jogger was slowing to a walk in front of Alexis’s house, taking a long gratuitous swig of water. Jared’s eyes ran down his leanly muscled form, taking in the way his tight t-shirt hugged his muscles and his shorts clung to his ass. His eyes slid shut and he leaned in, fingers flexing on Alexis’s shoulder. She gave a tiny little moan before pulling back. Jared cleared his throat and wiped his mouth, trying to summon up a smile.

“I wish you could come inside,” she whispered plaintively, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. Before Jared could say anything to ameliorate her mood her hand was diving into his lap to grip him tightly through his jeans. He made a strangled sound.

“Lexi, I have to get home,” he said in a tight voice, muscles locked. He did his best not to squirm away from her hand, but the sick feeling was returning and he couldn’t help but shift away.

“I know, I just want some time to love you, you know?” she said, pulling back sadly. He sighed and wished her goodbye, and her mood changed abruptly. “Sex in the City marathon with Tristy and Mindy in an hour, I’ve got to look my best, see ya.”

She bounded up and out of the ‘68 Mustang he’d painstakingly restored, her skirt flying high and showing the world everything there was to see of her butt cheeks and the thong with rosettes on it. Jared didn’t shudder, there was just a sudden breeze. Surely everybody had that same gut-churning response when girls got too close.

*

He was getting stuff out of his school locker for English when Chad sidled up next to him. Chad really did have nice hands, not as large as Jared’s but still elegant, there was some rumor he’d fingered Hilary Duff once when she’d come to town for a film shoot.

“No practice today, Jared,” Chad sighed, eyeing the inside of his locker. “Just thought I’d tell you, the field was over-watered last night, it’s a fuckin’ wreck.”

Jared sighed in commiseration.

“So,” Chad said, eyes on the inside of Jared’s locker. “You like Star Wars?”

Jared smiled, mood improving when the subject turned to his favorite movie. “Oh yeah, Hayden Christensen was just great.”

Chad’s brow furrowed but he didn’t look away from the photo of a shirtless Anakin. Chad was admiring Anakin’s muscle tone, too. Jared did that a lot. To be that effortlessly masculine and strong, well, Jared was jealous.

“Yeeeah,” Chad said, drawing the word out, after a long moment of staring at the photo and then back at Jared. “Well, I gotta go.”

He waved goodbye and Jared nodded at him, looking back at Anakin's angst-twisted face. He wished he could be that strong and proud and…well, whatever it was that Anakin was. Next time he should ask Chad about kissing Alexis. Maybe everybody thought it was gross and they just went through the motions. He’d have to wait till practice tomorrow though since the stupid administration had ruined the field again.

The bell rang, startling him. He sent one last loving look at Anakin and dutifully walked off to English. Looked like he’d be home a little earlier than usual. Ah well, just more time to be spent with his parents and his sister.

*

Jared arrived home to find the entire world in his living room. Okay, not everybody on the planet. If Peyton Manning was in his living room he might have just died and then he wouldn’t be staring at them all awkwardly. However, Alexis, his parents, Chad, half the offensive line, and like eight of his teachers were in the room.

“Um, hi,” he said weakly, and smiled at them. They didn’t smile back. Well, his mother tried, and Evan Greene looked a little sorry for him, but mostly, they all looked pretty severe. He was so confused and none of them looked like they had any plans to do anything but stare at him.

“So,” he said nervously, trying to break the ice. They all traded glances and cleared their throats uncomfortably, clothes rustling and feet scuffing on the carpet. Jared was starting to wonder if they’d all assembled to mourn over the fact that his dog, Cary Grant, had died earlier that week, but somehow he doubted that was it. He held his breath and widened his eyes at them.

His mother drew in her breath and held it before letting it out in a whoosh. Jared always hated it when she did that. That was the sound of being grounded or penmanship lessons. “Sweetie, I think you’re gay.”

Jared blinked uncomprehendingly for two seconds and then burst out laughing. Gay? Right. He played football, he drove a muscle car, he dated a cheerleader. Hell, he’d fucked a cheerleader. Er...once.

“Jared, we’re not really kidding or anything,” Alexis huffed out, arms crossed over her chest. The motion pushed her breasts together. Jared frowned and looked pointedly at her face. She caught it and crowed, “See? You have got to be gay not to appreciate these!”

Jared held back a scoffing noise, but the football team, packed though they were, all spoke amongst themselves, before loudly agreeing with Alexis’s ridiculous pronouncement. Jared’s parents were too busy giving his girlfriend the eye of doom to pay attention to him.

He was going to have to set them straight. “Mom—”

“Jared,” Chad interrupted using a placating tone. He held up a Ziploc bag filled with all clippings from his locker like it was something contagious. Jared inhaled. It had taken forever to put those up. “Look at this, right? You love Star Wars for Anakin. Totally gay.”

“And you use shampoo that smells good!” Somebody piped up. "We all use Axe."

He grew more and more frustrated. None of that proved anything. He was definitively straight and he could still have an enormous amount of respect for Anakin and not like Alexis’s boobs, maybe he was an ass guy for crying out loud.

Everybody in the room coughed and colored. He realized somewhat belatedly he’d spoken the entire diatribe aloud. That horrible sensation in his chest had to be his heart giving its last gasp. Evan Greene wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes prickled dangerously.

His mother stepped towards him, cupping his face in her hands when he wouldn’t look at her. “That’s what we mean, Sweetie. It’s okay, we’ll get you some help.”

He let it all sink in for a minute. The way Alexis was looking at him, the way Chad was not looking at him, the way the football team winced when he glanced at them. He grit his teeth at the sight. Goddamn them all. He couldn’t help it if he was just different. That _still_ didn’t mean he was gay. He shoved his way through the knot of people, knocking over Evan and thrusting Andrew out of his way and practically elbowing this freshie in the eye in his maddash to get to his room. His mother called after him, but he was so angry that the only response he had for her to slam his door. He had never done that before.

He hurled himself on the bed, inhaling sharply and trying to control the impulse to rip his pillows apart. He lay like that for long moments, tense and frustrated and an inch away from screaming into the bedclothes he’d buried his face in. He didn't need help! He needed a better girlfriend who understood personal space. He'd never doubted his parents, ever, how could they doubt him? The injustice weighed upon him heavily. Finally when the sadness and humiliation overtook the anger, he flipped himself over and wiped at his eyes. He blinked fiercely and then paused. Something was different. It took him a moment to figure it out. The walls were bare. His mother, or his father, had painstakingly taken down all of his posters of football stars, and auto mechanics, and Val Kilmer in _Batman Forever_. His eyes widened in disbelief. What gave them the right—Batman? Totally not gay.

*

So help, it turned out, didn’t mean long hours of therapy in order to accustom himself to his new realization, but a conversion camp. Only they didn't call it that. They called it a "adjustment" center. He hadn't been looking forward to returning to school over that town meeting in his parents shag carpeted front room, but he hadn't exactly expected to be shipped off to De-gay-ifying boot camp either. He was sure his parents couldn’t afford the place, and it was way more embarrassing than therapy. At least with some psychologist he could just say it was all a mix up, he was just different, not…gay.

And now he was stuck in a room full of raving lunatics. A gargantuan gay get-together. He'd never seen so many of those people in one room before. The girls and boys had been gender segregated. They had pink and blue uniforms to match, just like a maternity ward. Jared only had an open backed hospital gown. His skin simultaneously crawled and felt too tight. It was probably all a ploy to force him into saying something he didn’t mean. Homosexual-naked-torture. They'd hit upon his weakness. Jared hated not having five layers of clothing on. He'd feel just slightly better if he at least had his football helmet, but his mom hadn't let him pack it.

Was that what it was to be gay? Forced to walk around naked until you changed your wicked ways? What about that crazy Vietnam vet in the park, then? Had he just refused to admit it? Jared made a face.

He didn’t want to go shouting about how he didn’t belong here, that wouldn't be very nice to these other folks who so clearly did, but it seemed to be fighting its way out of his mouth anyway. That would offend everybody and that was the last thing in the world Jared wanted to do. He was a nice guy, even when people wanted to call him a fag. He’d even gone and apologized to that damn freshman who got in his way before he left with a plate of Jared's mother's cookies. He was not, however, going to speak to Chad until the asshole gave him his clippings back.

He found himself getting angry at his parents and friends all over again. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t be sitting half-naked like a bug under a glass.

He was the butchest guy in this room; it was obvious even without the clothes. The bald moron who’d nearly strong armed him into the pink “True Directions” van after the entire family intervention debacle was less butch than he was. Jared didn’t cross his legs, or sit straight up, or fuss with his hair, or inspect his nails, or any of that shit. He prided himself on his manliness.

Why did they think he was gay again? Because he didn’t want to be molested by Alexis? Hardly a justifiable reason. He could feel himself getting surlier by the second and the other students leaned away from him. Jared made an exasperated noise and crossed his arms, slumping down in his chair and looking determinedly out the window.

The True Directions campus was a house out of a demented fairytale painted in all the worst colors. Jared didn’t know shit about color—one thing he’d definitely appreciated Alexis’s help on when they’d gone shopping at Abercrombie—but even he knew that this banana puke yellow was not suitable for the walls.

Mary, the equally insane headmistress (who'd introduced herself with “Jared, you won’t be allowed to wear clothes until you admit to your abnormality”), wore the brightest candy pink power suit known to man, and sounded like she’d been smoking and giving blow jobs for the majority of her life, only taking time off to bleach her hair into a startling blonde helmet. God only knew how she’d produced a hot son, Tom, with dark hair and sparkling eyes and a wicked smile and—Jared wanted to scream at himself. He was _not_ gay. They were totally making him gay by saying he was gay.

Compared to Wentworth, who’d nicely showed him around the place when he’d arrived, he was a freakin’ Van Damme. Not that there was anything wrong with Wentworth. He didn’t gesticulate or simper like some of the other boys. What was that called? A lisp? But he was far too smart for a straight guy. Seriously? Toni Morrison? Jared knew who that was, had read some of her books in English, okay Sparknotes anyway, but could he quote her? Not a chance. Wentworth bounced Toni and Fitzgerald and some guy, Marquez Garcia something—and like five-hundred other names, definitely not people on the senior reading list—around like they were nothing, like he’d actually spoken with them.

It should be painfully obvious, especially to these people with their _practical_ experience, that Jared wasn’t gay. Why couldn’t anyone believe it? It was like beating his fists against a brick wall. They just eye-rolled and acted like they’d heard it thousands of times. Also that Jared was clearly an idiot and so gay he was floating with it. Assholes. Er...No. Jerks! Yes, that was adequate! He could kill them he was so mad -- although he’d probably have to improvise. Everything in the damn house was pink and yellow and fluffy.

He sat in his stupid chair in his stupid uncomfortable hospital gown, waiting for something to happen. He noticed Wentworth eyeing Jared's hands nervously and he had to remind himself to unclench his fists and breathe.

Mary ignored him and nodded at a girl sitting near him. She smiled and got to her feet. “I’m Sandy, I love the Pussycat Colls, I mean _love_ them, and I’m a homosexual.”

Jared blinked. Like, duh? That everybody besides him belonged here, he had no doubt. He smiled as best he could at her anyway.

“I’m Kristen, I’m a soccer player and um…a homosexual.” She fluffed her blonde hair and sat down. Jared was really thankful to meet another athlete. Maybe they could talk about going running in the morning or something. He looked quickly over at the boys, afraid that Mary would think it was entirely queer if he so much as glanced at them. None of them looked like they’d ever done anything more athletic than paint their nails. De-gay-ifying boot camp was clearly a special level of hell.

He’d met one of the other boys earlier, besides Wentworth, J-something, and hadn’t come away from the experience with a smile. As he looked at J-something now he could feel his face cementing into a frown. Goddamn gay people. If they hadn’t existed he wouldn’t have gotten mistaken for one, and then he could be running plays on the field with the rest of the guys. Enjoying nice hot showers with—the sudden pause in introductions shook him out of it.

A boy all tricked out in eyeliner and metal and fake tattoos refused to stand-up. He looked at Jared sullenly, and Jared could feel his eyes slitting at the glare. He didn’t need this, especially not from some gothed-out gay vampire who probably should be going to camp for crazy people rather than gay ones. Or was that redundant? Jared didn't know.

After enough elbowing and throat clearing the kid got to his feet.

“I’m Christian, I like pain, and I’m a homosexual,” he gritted out. Jared wrinkled his nose.

Next was a green-eyed boy whose name started with J that he’d met on the tour. The J-boy had been leaning against the wall outside his dorm with a half-ashed cigarette. His eyes were hard, and he exhaled smoke like he was being filmed. The only people Jared knew who smoked were the loner rejects who’d graduated ten years ago and still hung out in the high school parking lot. This...pretty boy, for lack of a better term, was nothing like them. He’d carelessly flicked ash off the tip of his cigarette when Wentworth introduced them and looked Jared up and down, eyes heated in their appraisal. Jared had swallowed and Jensen’s expression had immediately turned disdainful. Wentworth had patted him on the back and said that it was no biggie, Jensen was just a spoiled rich kid. Jared still couldn’t help feeling like the biggest loser klutz on the planet and he was still smarting a little now.

“I’m Jensen, and I like boys.” He smiled slow and dirty at Jared. “A lot.” He turned and shot a look at Mary, his voice pitched low and mocking. “So I guess that means I’m a homosexual.”

Jared swallowed again, his entire body burning in embarrassment. He nearly choked when Mark( actor, dancer, and singer) offered his hand to kiss with a flirty wink. Mary reached out and slapped the offending arm and Mark dropped it with a long suffering sigh. Two more girls were introduced: Allie, who was sweet, but conveyed such an image of plaid and granola and Birkenstocks in spite of the regulation pink uniform that he'd nearly been rocked back by it, and Meagan who looked more like a housewife than a lesbian.

Mary turned to Jared finally and he forced himself not sneer back. “Don’t be intimidated. Why don’t you tell us about the first time you realized you were gay.”

Jared shifted under his smock and made a face. “I’m not, everyone just thinks I am.”

Wentworth and the girls made sympathetic faces, but Jensen and Christian looked completely unimpressed. Jared didn’t care. He wasn’t gay.

Mary hid a smile, Jared kind of wanted to slap it off her. “That’s a perfectly normal place to start, why don’t we discuss the issues in your intervention?”

Jared drew in a breath. “Well, I like the new Star Wars movies and I have pictures of men around.”

“And you think that’s normal?” Allie asked, expression incredulous.

“Well, there are only two sexes, 50/50 chance I’ll have pictures of one or the other if I have pictures. I mean come on, what is so wrong with having posters of my favorite movies and bands and sports players?”

“I meant the Star Wars prequels, actually,” Allie muttered under her breath.

Jensen snickered and looked over at Jared like he’d suddenly become interesting again. “You just have an explanation for everything, don’t you?”

Jared made a noise in the back of his throat. “I have a girlfriend, I like cars, I play football, I’m not a homosexual. I mean all of us look at boys, all of us get Sports Illustrated, all of us—”

Wentworth cut him off. “But you only assume that they’re thinking what you’re thinking when you look. They’re not.”

“I—what?” Jared inhaled and thought back. Maybe Chad hadn't been examining Anakin for his wonderful attributes at all! What if he'd just seen the future Darth Vader sans awesome James Earl Jones voiceover? His hand flew up to his mouth. Were they all like that? Did none of them appreciate the joys of Evan Greene in a shower stall? “Jesus Christ!”

Mary looked like she wanted to chastise him for his language but was too busy being triumphant over his breakthrough. She nodded at him. He closed his eyes and scrunched his face up before admitting painfully, “I’m a homosexual.”

Oh, that was embarrassing. After he'd fought so valiantly and called everybody not so nice names too.

*

The next day dawned bright and early on gender reassertion therapy. Jared was tired. He’d spent all night sleeping fitfully and turning his realization over and over in his head. He'd been going crazy with it. A weird buzzing noise had kept coming from Chris’s bed too.

Mike (the weird bald guy who Jared was still butcher than) said the basic skill that every straight man needed to have was to be able to repair a car. Jared already knew how to repair a car. He was becoming a little suspicious of Mary’s methods, but then he could be stuck back in the house making wedding dresses like Mark had been begging to do all through breakfast.

Allie had looked pretty determined to trade, but Mary put an end to that with a sharp sissy boy comment that made Mark shriek. Now they all stood watching in abject fascination as Mike rolled and thrust beneath the car’s undercarriage, the tight blue shorts he wore clinging to everything.

Jared gulped and looked away. He wasn’t interested in Mike even if he did have some intense blue eyes. However he couldn’t get the sight of those hips working out of his head. He was so caught up in it, he didn’t even notice the hand sneaking up his chest and swirling around his nipple until it had already been going on for some time.

“What the hell are you doing?” He whispered furiously to Mark, who pulled back his hand as if burned. Jared might’ve been a fairy boy, but he was still well over six feet with the shoulders to match. It was bad enough when Alexis had touched him. He wasn’t going to let some horny _gay_ boy do it.

“Um, I—well,” Mark stumbled and stuttered.

He was saved from answering by Mike pulling out from under the car. Jared winced as he heard parts rattle. It sounded like he’d loosened the entire engine block. Just as well that it was an old used-up Volvo, or he’d probably go insane watching Mike tinker and tanker about without the slightest clue. “Okay, so now we look under the hood,” Mike said, gesturing at Jensen with a torque wrench.

Jensen rolled his stupidly green eyes, pursed his smirky lips, and accepted the wrench before sauntering over to the car. And then they were back to the same problem as before--Jensen bent over in his tight blue pants and infinitely more attractive than Mike. Certainly not bald.

Wentworth coughed into his hand, and Jared looked down at his feet. It was not going to be easy, he could already tell.

Mike sighed as he watched Jensen putter about ineffectually under the hood, making really sexy noises of frustration.

“Lord, there are days I wish I could go back to interior design,” Mike snapped. “Jared, will you help him out?”

Jared looked back and forth between Mike and Jensen, who seemed to have discovered the fuel line and then gotten caught in it. It was rather mean-spirited but he desperately wanted to laugh. Mike raised his brows, and Jared sighed. Fine, he could do this. Maybe Mike would just let him fiddle with the car and tell the others to go the hell away. He came up behind Jensen and snapped the fuel line back together again before wrapping his own hand around Jensen’s and guiding his arm into the right motion. Jensen tensed in his grasp, back rigid against Jared’s chest.

Jared ignored him. “Righty tighty, lefty loosey, 'kay?”

Jensen made a strangled noise and then turned and shoved Jared away. A feat only accomplished because Jared wasn't expecting it. “I got it, alright.”

Jared held up his hand and rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

*

Jared couldn’t stop laughing when he saw what was next—Mike whacked him on the back of the head twice to get him to shut up—mowing the lawn on the largest, most dangerous, practically combat-ready John Deere he’d ever seen. Wentworth looked appalled and started asking why they couldn’t use mechanical lawnmowers since they didn’t use gas or electricity or kill the environment.

“You don’t care about the environment anymore!” Mike shouted, exasperated.

Wentworth raised his palms in supplication.

“You are no longer a vegetarian. You eat meat, red meat, _dripping_ with blood.”

Wentworth sighed with resignation, but still winced every single time someone started the motor.

Mike showed them how to turn on the engine and then let them take turns with it. Chris, despite the make-up that Mary still couldn’t get him to discard, was actually pretty good at it. Jared secretly got the impression he'd been raised on a farm. Goth boy in a cowboy hat. Oh the image was too much. But he cheered when all the other guys did. Mike showed them the evil eye, and they sighed and grabbed their crotches and made harrumphing noises like he showed them. Jared hoped this was helping.

When Wentworth got on the tractor he promptly lost control, and suddenly the wicked and evil threshers were churning up everything in sight, and the engine was accelerating like it was possessed. Wentworth jumped off with scream, and they watched, horrified, as it turned back on them, blades whirring. Jared saw that Reese Witherspoon movie where the hero got mowed by his own tractor.

“Run,” Mike shouted, diving behind a fallen log. Wentworth was a shaking, sobbing mess, but he rolled to safety as fast as he could. His adrenaline racing, Jared sprinted off behind another stump, only just noticing Jensen at his side. There was a crunch, Jared thought it might be bad to hope it was Chris. As metal shrieked and tore into the earth, Jensen leaned into him, completely distracting him from his mad fantasies about Chris' impending end.

There was a loud screech and the tractor turned on them.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Jensen muttered under his breath as the tractor lay deep rents in the field. He pushed further behind the stump and into Jared as the machine swung around again. Jared's skin was on fire.

Suddenly, Tom, like Superman, was at the scene—jumping on the tractor like it was a bucking bronco and pulling the keys out of the ignition. Jared felt Jensen's exhale of relief against his neck. It was only then that he noticed their hands were clasped together. Jensen didn't even seem to notice that he was gripping so tight Jared's fingers were turning white.

Was that backsliding? Couldn’t be. He’d never held hands with a guy when he was still a clueless homosexual. The camp was working, it had to be. He had to get back to school before he got kicked off the starting line-up.

*

They took a break with lemonade and cookies that Mike urged them to wolf down rather than primly nibble. Jared pointed out he'd never "primly nibbled" anything in his life and Mike shot him a withering glare. Afterwards he presented them with a football. Jared was glad, maybe he could get some practice in, run a few drills with the other boys, or at the very least Mike.

It quickly became clear when they could barely throw a spiral that Jared’s hopes weren’t even in the same sphere of reality.

Jensen wasn’t half bad once he actually started running, but catching the ball was something else, and Wentworth claimed that even in the distant future when he was straight he was still not going to run around with balls. Mark was abysmal, shrieking whenever anybody came near him for a tackle, obsessing over his hair treatment.

Jared wanted to scream after they fumbled the ball for the 80th time on a routine pass, and Mike shouted that they were complete sissies.

Instead he just channeled some of his anger out on Chris, who was seriously a bigger bitch than Alexis. He whacked him with the ball as much as possible. However, his plan failed—he’d kind of forgotten that Chris was a completely perverted masochist. Chris only got mildly annoyed. In fact, he looked ready to ask Jensen to start throwing the ball at him instead.

 

He’d asked Wentworth about the buzzing noise at breakfast and had been told about the shock stick used for aversion therapy and then catapulted into the most clinical description of Sadomasochism ever. It still left him feeling faintly green. He was careful to only barely bodycheck Christian later.

 

Mark got into the spirit of the game and slapped Wentworth’s butt as he walked past. At Mike’s dirty look, he claimed he was just emulating what he’d seen on the field. Jared cringed and dramatically lowered his expectations of them all. When Wentworth and Mark crashed into each other after Mike sighed in resignation and downgraded them to three flies up, he realized those expectations hadn’t been low enough.

“Come on, you nancy boys!” Mike shouted, distracting Jared from his mounting despair. “I want to see you throw the ball like men!”

Jared could feel a sob in the back of his throat. His kid sister threw better than this. He looked down at the pigskin in his hands and suddenly wondered if she knew where he was—if his asshole parents had made her aware that he’d been shipped off to camp for the criminally gay. Probably not. Jared was now bitterly aware that his parents had kept a whole lot from him.

He sighed and chucked the ball at Wentworth hard enough to sting. He was about to apologize and congratulate him for completing a pass when he was smacked sharply on the bottom.

“What the—!” Jared shouted, jumping nearly a mile into the air.

He turned around to find Mike grinning evilly. “You better run, boy, Ima beat the sissy out of you.”

“Jesus,” Jared shouted, running as fast and as far away from Mike as he could. He passed Jensen and Chris throwing a ball back and forth with minimal fumbling. They looked up when they saw Jared sprinting past. Jensen yelped and threw the football aside. Chris only paused and looked on in interest. Mike had already gotten to Mark and was viciously whacking him on the bottom while the poor actor/dancer/singer wailed and struggled to get away.

“Rough,” Jared said aloud to himself, face sympathetic and open, from his position behind a tree, the same one he and Jensen had tried to hide themselves behind just that morning.

He heard Jensen scoffing behind him and turned around. “Mike? Totally gay. Beat the sissy out of us? You know it’s just an excuse to touch us.”

Jared looked at him. “But Mike completed the program.”

“Oh come on, you don’t actually think this shit works, do you?” Jensen leaned back against a tall beech tree, blue shirt stuck to his chest with sweat and hair falling into his eyes.

Jared shrugged. “I’m not one to judge.”

Jensen made that disdainful noise in the back of his throat again, and Jared’s cheeks pinkened. Jared hated Jensen with a burning passion when he did that, mostly because it was directed at him and not ever at Mark or Chris or Wentworth. Although, Jared bet that if Jensen ever talked down to Wentworth he’d get the verbal laceration of his life.

He could feel his shoulders rising, and the glare he was becoming rather used to wearing crossed his face again. Jensen just snorted.

“Believe me, Princess, I know you aren’t too fond of your brain,” Jensen said, trademark smirk and arched brow in place. Jared let out a breath and then turned on his heel and walked away. When you were as big as Jared was, you learned long ago that no fight was worth picking.

Especially not with Jensen, who’d doubtless pull his hair and scratch his eyes out.

*

When they broke for lunch Sandy and Kristen were covered in blue ink. Mark clucked over them, offering to fix their hair and do their make-up, but that wouldn't solve anything. They’d just be lipsticked up and covered in blue ink.

They explained that it was from the fake baby they were supposed to be changing in the ‘how to be a mother’ unit. Jared wondered if Mary should be teaching any such thing as he watched Tom do yard work. The boy might be gorgeous, the owner of some seriously bulging muscles, and very handy around the property, but he was _not_ a straight guy. At least Jared didn’t think a straight guy should be running around in denim hot pants, waving a chainsaw around like it was an enormous extension of his dick.

Jared was so confused. All of these things that made people straight—hadn’t he already known them?

Did Mary expect Jared to start sipping his water out of a twisty straw with one pinky up like Tom did? He doubted it. Mike didn’t drink out of his cup like that. Did that mean Mary had messed her son up somehow, in spite of being able to turn people straight? She was certainly atoning for it with this place. Maybe that meant Jared’s parents had messed him up too. He didn’t see how though—his older brother Jeff was completely normal and married and shit.

He got a chance to think about it in more depth later when Mary gathered them all around a fake campfire. Jared scuffed his toe against molded burnt-plastic logs and made a pained face. Mary's attempts to simulate a sleep away camp were tainting his childhood.

“So, we’re trying to figure out what our roots are,” Mary started them off, knees crossed elegantly and pink heels completely smudgeless. Jared had to admire that, they’d walked through the muddy field that Wentworth had nearly destroyed in the morning.

Jared tried not to look too confused about the roots thing. Clearly this was something they all had done in the time he’d missed.

Mary was still talking, “Mark doesn’t know what his root is. I don’t think he’s trying hard enough, but in the mean time, Jared, we’d like to know: what’s your root?”

Jared huffed out a sigh. “I have no idea.”

Mary gave him a sharp look. “What is it, do you think, that made you gay.”

Jared looked around the circle at them all, hating the way he was being put on the spot again. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know I was gay, how do you expect me to know that?”

Jensen leaned forward. “Mary, I think someone else isn’t thinking hard enough.” He smiled at Jared, all teeth and no warmth.

Jared glared. “I don’t know! I’m not like you guys.” He wasn’t. They were all so stereotypical.

Jared rolled his eyes and sneered, mouth pulled tight. “There you go with that ‘you guys’ shit again, we’re just like you, asshole.”

Mary poked Jensen with her foot. “Language, Jensen.”

Jared blew out a breath. “Why don’t you tell us about _your_ root then!”

Jensen shook his head. “We’re talking about your issues here, not mine.”

“Actually, Jensen, it might be good for Jared to hear,” Mary interjected.

Jensen rolled his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? My parents named me Jensen. It just doomed me to a life of being called Jenny and the attending gender confusion.”

That was totally lame. Jared didn’t think Jensen was very confused about his gender. His shoulders were nearly as broad as Jared’s own and unless Jensen thought using the pec-fly machine was going to give him boobs, he had some pretty sculpted pectorals.

“Very good, Jensen,” Mary said, gifting him with her scary smile. She turned to Wentworth, who looked up from the book he was reading. “And you, Wentworth?”

“Um, my mother gave me Oscar Wilde to read as a child,” Wentworth said and went back to his book. Jared smiled at him. If that was a root, no doubt wherever Oscar Wilde was laughing his ass off at the number of people he’d turned into fags.

Sandy went next. “My dad was a stay-at-home dad.” They all patted her on the shoulder.

Everybody went through their reasons. Too much Ab Fab at a young age, the castle Anthrax with Sir Lancelot, playing with daddy’s power tools—all very informative, although Jared was still no nearer to his own root.

When it was clear that Jared and Mark weren’t going to come up with anything, Mary partnered them off to go through gender flash cards. She told each pair to go and get shock sticks to make the lessons stick. Jared was joy of all joys paired with Jensen. He heaved a sigh and got slowly to his feet. Wentworth waved at him piteously. He stood somewhat wilted next to Mike, whose hands were ready to deliver a smack-bottom at any moment. Wentworth, he decided, had it worse.

Jared had the set of cards first. Jensen failed at the game spectacularly, refusing to answer or coming up with such ridiculous responses that he knew he was being fucked with. Jared wondered with no little consternation at what childhood Jensen'd had. His parents must have been zombies to let him act like that.

"Ooh, ooh, a pokemon!" Jensen said, when Jared showed a picture of a boy in a yellow uniform obviously a basketball player.

Jared sighed and shocked him."Stop it."

A man barbecuing was an executioner in the tower of London and a card of the postman was a serial exhibitionist. Two men playing golf were participating in a bizarre mating ritual and a construction worker was a member of The Village People. He got more and more exasperated at Jensen’s complete lack of cooperation. They’d been at it longer than any other pair. His thumb was getting tired from hitting the zap button. Finally he gave in and switched, knowing that was what Jensen had been waiting for all along.

Jensen had pasted over all his cards with photos from a gay porn magazine. Jared was torn between being appalled and interested. Before he even opened his mouth to comment, Jensen started shocking Jared on every part that he could reach. Elbows, arms, knee caps, thighs, belly, shoulder.

“Arg,” Jared moaned, rubbing delicate fingers over the tender inside of his arm. “What is with you?”

“Well, you were going on about how I couldn’t stop objectifying men. I just thought I would test and see.” Jensen shocked him again, somewhat playfully. “I think you’ve really got a thing for Hayden Christensen.”

Jared rolled his eyes, but then Jensen smiled and maybe, maybe it was kind of an amusing prank. Even if he kind of wanted to kick Jensen in the face. Jensen reached to shock him again and Jared tried to yank the stick out of his hand. Jensen tugged back and then they were wrestling on the ground for it. Jared might’ve been queen of the fairies, but he was obviously working out like a pro, because Jared struggled against arms like banded steel, desperately trying to grasp the stick.

But, ultimately, Jensen hadn’t been around 200 boys who ate half their weight every day and then barreled into people with it the way Jared had. It was only inevitable that Jared would come out on top. Especially when he figured out that Jensen was ticklish with a slip of his hand. Jensen snorted with laughter as they rolled and tussled for the stick, shocking each other by accident with practically every move. Jared got an arm across Jensen’s throat and pressed down and finally he sagged underneath him.

“Okay, okay, I give,” Jensen said, breathlessly chuckling, hands still pushing at Jared's shoulders.

“Very good, boys!” Mary called from the corner, not even trying to separate them. “Everybody, Jared and Jensen have just demonstrated a quintessential straight male behavior.”

They froze, caught. Jared doubted he was supposed to be relishing the feel of Jensen’s thigh wedged between his own, or the press of his chest and the warmth of his skin. Jared remembered how Wentworth said he only thought the straight boys enjoyed rolling around in the same way that he did. Jensen’s sea-green eyes were glassy and almost completely swallowed by his pupils. He breathed hard against Jared. It looked like in this highly specific case, Jared had been right.

They slowly looked over at the rest of the students sheepishly, who all stared back in silence. Wentworth shook his head and rolled his eyes skyway. He totally had their number. Jared could feel his cheeks lighting up again. He wished Jensen weren’t so attractive. Jared rolled off of him and tugged him to his feet, making sure to keep the shock stick well out of the way. He could see that sneaky look in Jensen’s eye. They glanced at each other and cleared their throats, everything suddenly very awkward.

“I—are you gonna…” Jared started weakly.

Jensen didn’t reply, he leaned down and picked up Jared’s cards and then coughed theatrically. They both sat down and pretended nothing happened, but whenever their eyes connected they couldn’t seem to stop blushing.

*

Family therapy was clearly the worst idea Mary had come up with yet. Almost everybody, except for maybe Wentworth and Jared himself, had completely psycho parents. Allie was divulging her story about her mom’s Victoria’s secret catalogue and her parents looked like they wanted to die. They were so embarrassed that Jared was embarrassed for them.

He was proud of his own parents for remaining neutral, only looking vaguely uncomfortable when the stories got too graphic. Wentworth’s parents looked like they were taking notes for a study. Jared guessed that was where the guy got it from.

He sighed and wished for his turn to be over. He knew he was fidgety and twitchy with nerves. Jensen kept shooting him amused glances while trying to look engaged with whoever was speaking. Jared narrowed his eyes at him, but it only made Jensen smile harder. He couldn’t help it though. There was this terrible cold rock sitting in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down. Maybe after he’d said his thing he could go to the bathroom and just hide out there for the rest of the session.

Something about the entire family therapy idea felt wrong.

Jared wanted to get better, he really did, he wanted the football season and his friends back, but the scrutiny and ridicule didn’t seem worth it. Or particularly effective, especially with Jensen’s dad, Mr. Ackles, glaring at them all like they were disease ridden.

“I sympathize with that,” Sandy spoke up in response to Allie’s story, and Jared straightened up to listen. “Me and Meredith, from Catechism, we used to play doctor.”

Sandy’s parents squirmed in their chairs so much they made Allie’s look proud. Jared smiled at her weakly and she nodded. God he hoped his parents didn’t look like they regretted having him the way hers did.

And then Mr. Ackles spoke up. Jensen turned away before he even got a word out, his expression mutinous and ashamed, like he knew exactly what was coming.

“You dyke,” he said viciously. “I thought this was therapy, not porno story time!”

Jensen colored and his head bent upon his neck. Maybe he understood a little better now why he was so prickly. His dad was a jerk.

“And you,” he turned to Christian’s parents. “Are you proud of your Satan-worshiping Hell-bound fag of a son?” They looked taken aback, like they hadn’t even noticed his piercings or died black hair. Christian just blinked sleepily at him and then leaned back against his chair like he was going to fall asleep.

“Mr. Ackles,” Mary started, affronted, “I don’t find that appropriate!”

Jensen’s dad didn’t share any of his son’s good looks, and his saggy bulbous face reddened. “Well, I don’t find _this_ appropriate!”

Jensen’s step mom tried desperately to calm him, but he ignored her. “When I get back from making that deal in Russia, you had better have this whole gay thing out of your system. Or no college, no car, no trust fund!”

Jensen tried to say something, his face still turned away and his expression dull, but his father interrupted. “Got it?”

He sighed and picked at the cushion he was sitting on. “Got it.”

Mr. Ackles stormed out of the room, his simpering wife begging him to calm down and remember his heart. Jensen looked like pure venom as he got to his feet and walked out to watch his dad go. Jared craned his head and tracked him through the window. Jensen sagged against the porch railing, his grip on it white-knuckled and tight. Perversely, Jared wanted to get up and go to him.

“Jared!” Mary called him back to the room. “It’s your turn.”

Jared’s eyes darted around the room and he cleared his throat. “O-okay!”

His father patted his knee reassuringly.

“Um well,” Jared started. “When I was eight or so, my parents decided they needed to get in shape, and they both started eating better, and working out. Well, Dad did at least.”

His mother’s eyes darted over to him and he took a deep breath.

“But mom, she only got fatter and more unhealthy and lazy, but Dad got into really good shape and people started, like, paying attention to him in the grocery store—”

Jared’s mom turned to the entire group, sheepish. “But that was only for nine months, then I got liposuction.”

Jared tried not to look at her. “So I guess, I got all confused about what was attracti—”

“Ahah! That’s it!” Mary stated, beaming. “You don’t find your mother attractive at all, so you don’t think that women are attractive.”

“Well I—”

Mary plowed on. “I can’t believe you didn’t mention this before, it’s completely obvious.”

“I think that maybe that’s going a bit far—” Jared tried to interject, but nobody was paying attention. Oh god, he’d really stuck his foot in it now.

Mary urged everybody to clap. “Congratulations, Jared, you’ve found your root.”

He sagged back against the cushions and tried not to die. Hopefully his mom would still make him cookies after this.

Mary wasn’t done yet. “I think you should choreograph an interpretive dance to this! Express your feelings in a new way.” His eyes bugged out at the suggestion. Choreograph a dance? That was clearly the worst suggestion on the planet. How would that make him not gay? That would totally make him gayer. Everybody knew men who danced were complete homos.

*

He was outside walking around after everybody’s parents left, trying to gather his thoughts. Should he do this dance himself or just get Mark to make one up for him? Or maybe Jensen. Yeah right, Jensen would laugh at him and tell him to use his own creative genius and then take pictures of Jared’s failed attempts.

Mike came out to yell that free time was almost over and got completely caught up in watching Tom do the yard work in ripped denim and a tank top. Jared had to laugh at the way Mike stared, his breathing getting harsh as Tom dumped water from a martini glass all over himself. Jensen had been right about him.

Allie was sitting talking to Wentworth when a pink paper plane flew out of nowhere and hit her on the head. He watched as, tongue poking out between her teeth, she opened it and then started refolding it into a better airplane, telling Wentworth all along about the secret art of paper planes. Wentworth shrugged and immersed himself in a copy of _Brideshead Revisited_.

Jared found Jensen sitting alone practically sucking the tobacco out of a cigarette. He huffed at Jared, but didn’t say anything else. Jared stared for a few minutes before going to sit down beside him. Jensen smiled at him in the fake lip-pressy thing that Jared knew meant, ‘I really want you to die but I’m going to pretend really poorly that I don’t.’

It didn’t encourage him to move.

He started drawing football plays out on the dirt with a stick while Jensen studiously ignored him. Okay, so Jared wasn’t really all that great at this "let’s talk" stuff, but he knew that Jensen probably needed someone right now, the only question was how to get him to admit it.

He scratched harder at the little circles representing the offensive line.

“What are you _doing_?” Jensen asked, eyes narrowed.

Jared shrugged. “I’m going through the plays we run on the field.”

Jensen made that now familiar noise in the back of his throat. “Do you occupy your time with anything other than football?”

Jared smiled back. “Eating.”

“Ugh,” Jensen replied, rolling his eyes, he exhaled smoke in Jared’s face. “Of course.”

“So, your parents—”

“Don’t.” Jensen cut him off, eyes hard and trained on some point in the distance.

“I just—”

“Yeah, don’t!” Jensen replied viciously, green eyes snapping with heat.

Jared tried again, “Well, you’re not like Mark, it should be really easy for you to—”

Jensen laughed darkly and looked back at him, brows lowered in anger. “I can’t believe you, I cannot believe you!”

Jared frowned. He had no idea what was going on, but he was only trying to help.

“You fucking think that this place makes anybody _better_?” Jensen started, voice escalating. “What exactly is so goddamned wrong with the way we were before?”

Jared leaned away, putting a little space between them. Jensen moved right into it, clearly furious. Jared could think of a few things that were wrong with Jensen, his attitude for one. Every single time Jared reached out to him, Jensen slapped him away. He spent his time needling Jared like he’d done something grievous to him.

“You are who you are!” Jensen whispered viciously, throwing his cigarette down and stamping it down into the dirt with the toe of his blue shoe. “All your life you lied to yourself, Jared, and now you want to tell me how to make my life better?”

Now Jared was angry. If only Jensen would let him speak. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t get caught! That’s what I’ve learned.” Jensen shoved him hard with his newly freed hand.

“Oh yeah, so what are you doing here?” He shot back. “If you’ve figured it, why are you dressed in ridiculous blue onesies and sitting through gender reassertion therapy, huh?”

All of the energy seemed to drain out of Jensen in one little whoosh. He turned his back to Jared and his voice turned soft. “I got caught.”

Jared was silent for a moment taking in the rigid lines of Jensen’s shoulders, the way his fists clenched and unclenched. “Doing what?”

Jensen burst into hysterical laughter. “What do you think, genius? Getting fucked.” he reached forward and grabbed Jared’s dick roughly through his shorts, clearly enjoying his little squeak of fear. “With this, and I enjoyed it!”

Jared stumbled back and away from him. He’d never really thought about it, sure he knew what homosexuals did. He’d just never been confronted with it, especially in reference to himself. Jensen gave him one last look over and stomped off. Jared was shaking and his stomach felt like it had dropped out the bottoms of his feet.

Jensen had flipped a switch in him. He couldn’t stop thinking about _that_. It was in everything and everyone, Wentworth's cool stare, Chris's smirk, Mark's shoulder shimmy, Tom's straining against whatever brawny task he'd been assigned, Mike's crossed arms, but especially, especially Jensen. At lunch he watched the other boy dig into a ripe peach with a single-minded pleasure that Jared only knew when he was directing plays on the field.

His eyes were half-lidded and the juice dripped down his hand and over his wrist. Jared was riveted, eyes wide as Jensen’s tongue darted out between his lips, swiping across his pulse-point, thoroughly lapping all the juice up. He squirmed in his seat, sure he’d never been that hard in his entire life. Had he ever even been hard in his entire life? This seemed to redefine it.

He started having really realistic twisted dreams about it. Jensen sucking on him the way he’d been sucking on that peach, and it was driving him crazy, causing him to wake up fearful and aroused and ashamed. It was following him everywhere he went.

Wentworth had noticed and after dinner he'd drawn Jared aside and asked, "Are you on...something? You're a little twitchy."

"What, like Mary's hairspray? I couldn't get drugs in this place if I was Pablo Escobar."

Wentworth ceded the point.

Finally he gave up on sleep after he’d tossed and turned for hours. He forced himself from the bed and decided to go to the kitchen for a drink of water.

He didn’t know the house well at all in the dark and he kept bumping into things. Remembering not to apologize or curse for knocking stuff over was taking up all his energy. He might not even have noticed what was happening, distracted as he was, if he hadn’t heard it.

He shouted in surprise. Sandy and Kristen, naked as the day they were born, were writhing against each other. It was disgusting. He hated boobs. He really, really did.

“Oh please, god, make it go away!” He screeched, hands over his eyes. Sandy and Kristen sprung apart, guiltily.

“Shh!” Sandy cried, diving at him, looking over his shoulder for Mary.

He followed her glance and then realized what he’d done. “Oh my god!”

The two girls hastily tried to cover themselves up.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t think, I was just so surprised—” Jared apologized weakly, gaze directed firmly on the table they’d been hiding under.

Kristen glared at him, arms crossed tight over her bosom. “Just shut up, already!”

“But I didn’t mean—” Sandy clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Shut the FUCK up!” she whispered furiously, nails biting into his cheek. He nodded and kept his mouth shut.

But it was too late. Mike and Mary came running, and Jared tried desperately to say that he had been kissing one of them, or the other, but he kept mixing their names up, and their state of undress compared to his own belied his story.

"I've made a breakthrough, Mary, I swear it, Sandy--er--Kristen gives really good head."

Mary scowled at him and then turned her attention to the two girls. He watched, desperately sorry, as Mary kicked Sandy out and then sent Kristen to the doghouse—an actual physical doghouse with a little pink picket fence around it. Jared resigned himself to dining in hell with Hitler, Mubutu, and Stalin.

 

*

Only Wentworth would talk to him the next day. It was horrible. Jensen glared at him like he was all the worst things that Jensen had expected: idiot jock extraordinaire. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much. Jensen was a dick and he was never nice to Jared anyway.

Allie stabbed her potatoes with particular relish. “If only that little bitch had kept his fucking mouth shut!”

As if Jared couldn’t hear them just because he was a table away.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” Wentworth said and then flipped the page on Nietzsche. Jared had no idea how he went through books so fast. He never sat with the others because he claimed it made it hard to concentrate on the text.

Christian made a face at him across the divide. “If Princess over there had narked on me, I would have ended him!” He plunged his knife through his apple like it was Jared’s heart. Jared looked down at his food nervously, Wentworth patted his knee reassuringly.

He was about to sigh and go dispose of his tray when he heard Jensen speak up. “What? With your spike bracelet or is that thing only for self-mutilation?”

Christian colored. Allie burst out laughing and Meagan looked ready to puke. Jared’s eyes connected with Jensen’s and the other guy smiled. Why was Jensen defending him?

When they started the next unit, Demystifying the Opposite sex, which was clearly a glorified sex ed, Jensen sat down next to him. The sex ed tape told them how to stimulate a woman’s breasts and he felt, for one brief moment, Jensen’s knuckles brush against the back of his neck. When he looked over Jensen’s attention appeared to be rapt upon the screen. Jared bit his lip and smiled.

 

When they dressed in suits and practiced how to walk and sit, Jared nudged Jensen’s leg. “If you have to cross them, your foot should be resting on your knee, and you should never, never cross your ankles.” Jensen glared at him, but the light shove he gave Jared with his shoulder told him he wasn’t really mad.

Things continued like that for the next two days, and maybe Jared wasn’t a pro at this, but it was really starting to look like he and Jensen were flirting. Especially when Jensen flattened his shirt collar or showed him how to do a double-windsor.

When they were washing the car down later, Jared couldn’t help but strike up a conversation. “Do you miss your friends from home?”

“Yeah, I can’t decide who I miss most, the other airheads on the cheerleading squad or the apes on the foo—” He paused and looked up at Jared, blushing just a little. It made the freckles on his nose stand out. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jared smiled back at him. “Some of them are really dumb, mostly the defensive line. But yeah, we don’t exactly take the cake for academics.”

Jensen concentrated on scrubbing the cherry red hood for a long moment before changing the subject. “I’m not really sure who my friends are.”

Jared stopped scrubbing and looked at him, but Jensen didn’t divulge anymore information than that.

“What about you?” Jensen said brusquely, lifting one of the windshield wipers to get at the glass underneath.

Jared shrugged. “I thought I did.”

Jensen looked at him surprised. “Do they know you’re here?”

Jared laughed bitterly. “Oh yeah,” and he left it at that.

“That’s gotta be tough.” Jensen leaned over to scrub a bit further in the center, disregarding the front of his outfit. Mike would approve. Their hands met and Jared swallowed at the zing that rushed up his arm at the contact.

*

When he walked into the bathroom that night to brush his teeth, Chris, Mark, and Jensen were all squeezed in front of the mirror.

“What’s going on? It’s nearly lights out!” Jared protested.

Jensen smiled and shushed him. He was dressed in a black button down, jeans, and boots. Jared had never seen him in street clothes before. He swallowed and tried not to stare.

“We’re sneaking out,” Jensen said confidentially, eyes sparkling. “Get dressed!”

“What? There’s only a month left of this hell, no way I’m getting thrown out now.”

Jensen grinned sneakily and Jared found himself wanting to give in, but then he remembered his parents’ faces. “Who said we’ll get caught?”

“Jensen, I can’t,” he sighed and looked away. When he turned back the Jensen’s face was a cold unforgiving mask. Jared blew out a breath. Jensen was so moody sometimes it made his head spin.

“Fine, if you aren’t going to come at least have the decency to keep quiet about it!” he shrugged past Jared.

Jared walked back into the room and sat down on his bed with a sigh. Wentworth looked up from the thick tome in his lap. Edmund Spencer this time. “You should go with them.”

Jared looked at his feet. “Why aren’t you going?”

Wentworth made a motion with his hand. “Not my thing, but you’ll probably enjoy it, go.”

“But I—”

Wentworth made a stern face. “Go!”

Jared blew out a breath and then rushed to tug his clothes on. What the heck was he doing? He’d always been a good kid. His parents always knew where he was, he left the door open when Alexis was over, and he’d never drank or smoked before. This was completely new territory for him.

“Not that shirt!” Wentworth hissed as went to shrug on a blue button down. “Try that white t-shirt you have.”

Jared nodded and did as he was told. When he turned back Wentworth was grinning. "He'll like that."

Jared looked at him blankly. “Who will?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Wentworth said dryly. He gestured at the door. “Better hurry.”

"But--but who won't?" he called over his shoulder one last time. Wentworth never answered.

He made it into the van just in time. Christian groaned, but Mark and Allie cheered. Jensen didn’t say anything, but the smile on his face was answer enough. Pink paper littered the floor and suddenly he knew what the paper plane from the other day was.

“Where’s Meagan?” he asked as he stretched out on the flatbed.

Allie waved him away. “Meagan thinks knitting is a good Friday night activity.”

“Hi guys!” a perky voice said from the front seat. Jared looked up and found a thirty-something guy in a rainbow baseball cap grinning back at him.

“Hi!” they said back.

“Such a crowd today, I’m proud.” He smiled at them all. “I’m Eric Kripke-Singer and this is Bob Kripke-Singer.” Bob grunted at them. Jared shot Jensen a look.

“It’s so cool that you do this,” Mark gushed.

Eric laughed and handed them little pride pins. “Well, we used to be part of Mary’s ranks until we defected.” He clapped his hands. “We just wanted to show you that there are other options to—”

“Lying about yourself!” Bob interrupted gruffly, eyes on the road.

“Ahem,” Eric cleared his throat, “Covering up a part of you.”

“Pretending to be something you’re not!” Bob growled. They all had to hide smiles as Eric and Bob started bickering in the front.

“They are so married,” Mark said in a stage whisper. “It’s cute.” It was only then that Jared realized Mark was dressed in short shorts, a tube top, elbow-length gloves, and boa.

"Wow," he said. Mark preened.

Jensen laughed at the look on his face. “Get used to it, sweetheart,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear. Jared shivered.

When they reached the club, Jared was already wound up pretty tight. He tried to protest but Jensen bought him a beer and then he nearly died laughing at Jared’s caught expression when the bartender bought him another one.

“What is it?” Jared asked, flushed and embarrassed.

“You’re like the straight boy that everybody falls in love with, except you’re gay, dream come true, man.” Jensen knocked his arm and then turned back to survey the club.

Jared ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck. When he looked up Jensen was still grinning.

“Exactly.”

Jared had no idea what that meant. Before he could drum up the courage to ask, Jensen got asked to dance on the next song by some older guy with dark hair and dark eyes. Jensen smiled and acquiesced. The bartender tried to chat with Jared, but he was awkward and stuttery. He was too busy watching Jensen. Jensen really knew how to dance, Jared swallowed down a big gulp of beer and then tried not to choke on it.

“God, don’t think about it,” he told himself. “You’re trying to get better.”

“What?” the bartender asked, looking at him like he was crazy. Jared made a face at him and turned away. The song changed and somebody else asked Jensen for a dance. Jared blew out his breath, bored, and looked anywhere but at his friend. God he was so uncomfortable. The bartender gave up on him and went to serve two guys with matching glittery tank tops candy pink cosmos.

Jared huffed again. He knew this wasn’t his scene. He looked over at Jensen to see what jerk he was dancing with now and startled. Something was clearly wrong. Jensen was saying something and shaking his head, one hand up on the guy’s chest to stop him, but the jackass wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Jared set his drink down with a thud, leaving without paying. The bartender would hopefully understand. He had absolutely no plan of action, and he hoped the other guy wouldn’t take a swing at him, because he hated fighting. He passed two lithe young boys snuggling in a corner and got an idea.

It was only a few more steps to Jensen, and he didn’t even think about whether or not he had the courage or the know how to pull it off. He sealed himself to Jensen’s back, bringing an arm around Jensen’s chest to pull him closer.

“Everything all right, babe?” He said in rough voice against Jensen’s neck to hide his nervous blush. His eyes connected with the sleaze who wouldn’t leave Jensen alone and hoped it was enough to get the other guy to back down--that his stupid ploy didn't look totally transparent.

Sleaze narrowed his eyes and Jared tightened his hold on Jensen, praying his height would do the talking for him. Or that Jensen wouldn't kick his ass later. Inside he chanted ‘please don’t get mad, please don't get mad’ over and over.

Jensen's shoulders rose against his chest, but then he let out a breath of air and leaned back against him.

“Everything’s fine, Jared, this guy was just saying goodbye.” Jensen’s voice dripped acid. Jared was afraid he was going to have to hold Jensen back. He clamped his other arm around Jen’s waist just in case and before he could stop himself he gave Jensen’s neck a little nuzzle.

“Good to hear it.” Thankfully his voice squeaked only minimally.

Jensen patted Jared’s arm in reassurance, and Jared had to wonder who was really being saved here. The guy walked off. Jensen turned around in his arms, eyes blazing, and Jared steeled himself for the ‘wtf, man?’ He dragged Jared outside, past all the other dancing couples--Allie was flirting with some tiny redhead who looked like she couldn’t be more than twelve. Jared was about to comment when Jensen shoved him outside into the back alley.

“Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have done that,” Jared started, looking over Jensen’s shoulder rather than meeting his eyes. “I know you can take care of—”

Jensen cut him off with a kiss, a hard press of his mouth against Jared’s. Jared didn’t know why he was letting him. He hated making out. It was the most vile thing ever and he didn’t know how he’d endured it at Alexis’s hands for so long. But then Jensen tipped his head, and sucked Jared’s lower lip into his mouth and...oh!

Christ.

Jared felt like a wire had been attached to his cock, jolting pleasure down from his mouth. Jensen’s tongue flirted against the seam of his lips, and he parted them just slightly, allowing him in. He’d never entertained the thought that Alexis had been doing it all wrong. But the way he was lolling in Jensen’s arms, legs weak and body loose, the way everybody said it should be, made him reevaluate.

Jensen slowly pulled back, eyes squeezed shut. Jared was fingering his mouth like it was something new and undiscovered. Jensen caught him and looked at him with an amused expression.

“I thought you had a girlfriend?” he said slowly.

Jared looked at him blankly for a moment, he sank down to a crate against the wall. “Yeah, I thought kissing was gross.”

Jensen laughed uproariously. He should do it more often, Jared thought, laugh like he meant it. Jensen dropped down next to him.

Jared sighed and looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry if I was bad at it or anything, it’s not something I really—”

Jensen smirked and leaned forward again, brushing his lips lightly across Jared’s own, until he could feel them tingle and burn. Jared leaned into him, reaching across Jensen’s body to put a hand on his knee. He needed something to steady himself a little. Jensen’s mouth pulled into a smile against his and Jared, on a whim, darted out his tongue to trace them. Hopefully he’d stumble onto the right thing.

Jensen’s hand came up to tangle in his hair and they kissed like they had all the time in the world, mouths sliding together and apart. Jared wasn’t sure he could handle anything more intense than that.

“I think you got the hang of it,” Jensen said, pulling back and running his tongue over spit-shiny lips

Jared rolled his eyes. “Dude, shut up.” He dragged Jensen back to him. Jensen’s hand traveled in reassuring circles over his shoulder and before he could stop himself, he was moaning into Jensen’s mouth, fingers clenching tighter on Jensen's knee.

They startled apart when a door slammed open, Jared tumbling off his crate and onto the slick alley-way pavement. He looked up sheepishly to see Christian glaring at them in the doorway.

“It’s time to go,” he said shortly, hands on his hips and eyes like daggers.

“Sure,” Jensen said amicably, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. He looked over at Jared and shook his head in exasperated fondness. Jared rolled his eyes and gingerly stood up only to trip over the crate. Chris made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, but Jensen reached out to steady him without comment. He didn't let go until they crawled into the van and Jared had a sneaking suspicious that he was pink with giddy embarrassment. But on the on the positive, at least he now knew he adored holding hands.

The car went dark when the doors shut and the other kids were quiet with exhaustion, Mark had snuck his cell-phone out of the camp and was texting somebody with a slightly manic grin, Allie fell asleep with her head in his lap. Chris glared at Jensen and Jared the entire ride home like they were going at it right there in the car, but there was nearly an ocean of space between them. No reason to get upset. And if Jensen’s knuckles kept brushing the outside of Jared’s thigh, it was totally accidental.

*

They sat through their next Group therapy session with Mike, trying to go over Mark’s root because Mary had given up.

Mike, and the rest of them, had gotten tired of Mark babbling out his entire life story trying to figure out what the one event was that had turned him gay. He let Allie speak for a short time about her issues, Chris was already asleep in his chair.

“I’m a heterosexual!” Mark shouted suddenly.

“Um, not yet sweetie,” Mike said with an amused look in Mark’s direction. “And don’t talk out of turn.”

“No, I’m a heterosexual,” Mark said again, so sure of his new found answer.

Mike furrowed his brows and made a face. “Would you take a look at yourself?”

“No I totally am, we can’t find out what made me gay, because I’m not gay,” Mark said with a decisive nod. Jensen started choking on held back laughter and Wentworth was staring at Mark in fascinated horror.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” Mike replied caustically, eyebrows sharp downward slants over his startling eyes.

“Well, but I—”

Mike gave a beleaguered sigh. “Ugh, please don’t profane the room with your voice unless you have something remotely intelligent to say.”

Mark subsided with a sigh. “Well I just thought—”

“No, I don’t want to know,” Mike replied.

He was just turning back to Allie when the shit hit the fan.

The door slammed open like a mighty wind was roaring through. Mary strode into the room, pink power suit disheveled and blonde helmet of hair quivering. Everybody cowered away.

“I found this fifteen minutes ago!” she shouted, holding out a matchbook from the club.

They all stiffened and turned pale. She smiled, eyes narrowed and teeth gleaming.

“Ahah,” she said. “I will not have this seditious and morally reprehensible material around my house.”

She looked around at all of them. Mike crossed his arms, his expression grim.

“Jensen,” she shouted, nudging him with a pink stiletto.

“Yes?” he asked, his usual attitude and bravado gone in the face of Mary’s wrath.

“We all know what a slut you were before you came here,” Mary smiled with shark teeth. “Or at least I know, and I think _you_ know who’s been sneaking out.”

Jensen’s face turned blank. “No, I don’t.”

Jared felt his hackles rise. What gave Mary any right?

“What about you, Mark?” she replied, turning on the quivering queen. Everybody watched, breath caught in their throats, for Mark to reveal everything.

“But I do know something,” Jensen shouted, sounding a little hysterical. Mary turned back to him with an expectant look. “Last night, I realized something for the very first time—”

“Yes?” Mary asked, pink-nailed claws resting on her hip.

He smiled, expression mildly hysterical. “I have a crush, my first one, on a…girl.”

Wentworth laughed and then quickly turned it into a cough, trying to look demure, but Mary was overjoyed. “On who, Jensen?”

“Um, Meagan,” he said, seizing the first name that came to his head. Meagan looked terrified and Allie next to her made a retching noise.

Mary drew him to his feet and hugged him. “I’m so proud!” Jensen smiled at Jared over her shoulder. Jared bit his lip and looked away. It would be too hard not to laugh otherwise. He couldn’t believe that Mary was taking it all in.

And then, like a manic depressive, she turned to the rest of them, back to the wrath of god. “I’m very disappointed in you sneaks. I have scheduled meetings with your parents.”

*

They waited in tortured agony outside of Mary’s office as each set of parents interrogated their child. He tried not to squirm. It was like family therapy all over again. Jensen was off the hook and his parents were in Moscow, so Mary had given him free time, but he sat beside Jared anyway, his strong thigh brushing Jared’s. Jared kept his head down so that the rest of the group wouldn’t see him smile and blush. He need to get that under control. His face gave him away all the time.

When it was his turn, he shuffled into the room slowly. His parents looked at him in consternation, clearly already convinced of his guilt. His mother trembled, weeping into a handkerchief and trying to form half broken sentences.

“Now your mother and I know,” his father said finally. “That you would never go to such a place.”

Jared nodded, avoiding Mary's eyes.

“But if you had gone to such a place, you should know, you wouldn’t be welcome at home anymore,” his father finished.

Jared’s eyes jolted up to meet his. “What?”

“We can’t allow you to be unhealthy, this is the best way we know of hammering that home.” His father sighed woefully but his expression was firm. Mary nodded her head along with him.

Jared, who’d loved his parents and cherished them, felt himself filled with a sudden monstrous hatred.

His mother spoke up then, “If that’s what you choose, then you’d be choosing to cut us out.”

Jared couldn’t believe they were trying to say he would be disowning them if he did such a thing.

“So did you have anything to tell us, sweetie?” his mother asked, her expression once again happy and serene. “Alexis asked after you.”

“If it would be so easy for you to just let me go for something like that, maybe you should reconsider your role as parents!” He got to his feet and stormed out. His parents looked stricken.

“He’s just going through a phase,” he heard Mary claim, as he slammed his way out of the door. “Part of the price of progress, you’ll see him at graduation, I promise.”

*

Kristen got out that evening so that Mary could march them over to Eric Kripke-Singer and Bob Krikpe-Singer’s house to protest against them the next morning. Mary had allowed them to decorate their own signs and Mark had gotten a little carried away with the glitter outlining “All fags go to Hell.”

Mike and Mary were both shouting on bullhorns and the rest of them waved their signs and shouted along with them, except for Jared who only waved his sign half-heartedly. This was so wrong and he told Jensen so.

“They have to understand,” Jensen whispered at him furiously. “They had to go through this once too.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Jared said softly.

The muscles around Jensen’s mouth tightened and he looked away, going back to his sign waving and shouting. Eric and Bob came running out of the house, rainbow fatigues on, with super soakers in hand. Everybody except Mary and Jared went running, Mark even screamed. Jared was seized by a sudden irrational desire to run into the warm embrace of the large house Eric and Bob had built, pride flags festooning every window. But he knew better and after standing dejectedly for a moment he too got back in the van.

They had cake when they got back, pink and blue icing. Jared loved frosting, but he knew Jensen hated it, and he waited for the other boy to sit down beside him and give him his. But it didn’t happen. Jensen walked over to Meagan and offered her a piece of cake.

Jared watched in horror as Jensen was just all over Meagan, feeding her food, wiping frosting out of the corner of her mouth, laughing and tickling her. They hadn’t done anything since that evening at the club, and maybe that had all been a fluke. He didn’t think Jensen liked Meagan or anything, and it wasn't like he was jealous of her, but it sure did seem easy for the other boy to just forget Jared. Or maybe that _wasn’t_ it, but god, why was Jensen always so in control.

He knew the other boy was really experienced. Even if Mary hadn’t said so, he’d heard Mark and Chris gossiping about it. And Jared honestly had no idea why Jensen was interested in him. He was just a lanky football player, and Jensen hated those.

He thought about flirting with Kristen in retaliation but that wouldn’t work since Kristen probably still wanted to kill him and Allie would probably castrate him if he so much as looked at her funny. He spied Tom over in the corner with Mike, in the ubiquitous baby blue, muscles straining at his shirt. And so maybe it was really stupid what he was about to do, but it was the only card he had left in the deck.

He shot Jensen and Meagan a last dark look before striding over and inserting himself between the two guys, cake completely abandoned.

“You have really big muscles,” he said, dropping his voice an octave. God he hoped this was actually sexy and didn’t make him look like a serial killer. Tom smiled winningly at him and Mike shot him a suspicious look, but didn’t remark.

“Can I touch ‘em?” Jared asked, leaning in close. Tom worried his lip with his teeth and then shot Mike a look. He drew Tom over to a bench and started massaging his shoulders when he sat down. Tom’s skin was warm and velvety beneath his hands, and he was _gorgeous_ but Jared couldn’t summon up any interest. Mike was biting down viciously on his plastic fork, despite the fact that he’d eaten all of his cake already. Tom moaned beneath his fingers like a porn star. And that was kind of starting to freak him out.

When they broke for bed that night Jensen cornered him in the hallway.

“What the hell, Jared?” he asked, his face confused and angry and frustrated.

Jared couldn’t help laughing, joy welling up in him. Jensen did care. “You’ve never been jealous over somebody before, have you?”

Jensen colored and looked away. Yeah, Jared thought so. People like Jensen never had to worry about anything in that field. He caught Jensen by the neck, grazing his nails down his nape.

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” he whispered, leaning in to touch their foreheads together. Jensen sighed and he fisted his hands in Jared’s shirt, leaning up to kiss him, but then Mike walked down the hall calling lights out and they sprang apart just in time. Mike glared at Jared hard enough to kill him.

*

The next day was the final test. They were graded in everything they had learned. Mary trotted them out at four in the morning, fed them the heaviest breakfast on the planet, and then sent them to it while everybody looked on, fiercely judging.

For the girls it was cleaning, diaper changing, nail painting, and bridal gown shopping—which Jared thought was a little unfair to women. Allie certainly looked like she thought so, which might have been why she disliked Meagan so much. That girl ate it all up like it was nothing. Mark cringed as he watched Allie getting red O.P.I all over Kristen’s hand. Jared thought for one second that Wentworth might’ve been taking notes during the whole thing, but then he looked again and the guy was just watching, hands in his lap.

The boys had to fix another broken down car together. Jared didn’t let Jensen touch anything, but Wentworth was okay, although Mark was nearly worse then Jensen. He spotted him filing his nails on the beveled side of a torque wrench. Jensen hung out under the hood and stared at the machinery like it would magically resolve itself into working order. It was kind of adorable.

Jared sighed and tweaked with the rear axle.

Then they had to practice catching the football that Mike threw while another guy ran defense. Jared did fine on that of course, but Jensen might have tackled him a little aggressively and they started rolling around in a pile of leaves. Jensen finally got up when he realized Mike was watching them with a calculating expression. He chuckled and threw leaves at Jared when nobody else was looking. Jared kept finding them inside his clothes.

Mark forgot to watch out in front of him when it was his turn and he ran into a tree with a shriek. They had to take a break to drag him to the infirmary and then they got back to it. Christian did perfect, Wentworth caught it with an expression of surprise, and Jensen barely managed to hang onto it. But all in all he thought they’d all done okay. If they didn’t, it meant being sent home.

They all got back together again in the afternoon to write a bullshit essay on what it meant to be a heterosexual. Christian furiously scratched at the page, so loud that he distracted everyone else when they were attempting to write. Meagan kept making eyes at Jensen now that she’d gotten over her initial fear of him. It was pretty bad that Jared was considering smacking a girl, he’d never done that in his life. He wondered if it counted if she was a lesbian.

“I’m so proud of you all,” Mary said when it was over, clipboard in hand, and new pink stripey suit in place. She had them assembled at the fake campfire again, while she paced back and forth. “I’ve never seen such a determined group before.”

They all demurred politely and ducked their heads.

“I’m passing all but one of you.” She stepped towards Mark and Jensen. Mark looked over at Jensen with a sympathetic expression, all ready to comfort him. “Mark, you have to go home.”

She walked off with talk about more cake in the kitchen. Mark sat there and cried lugubrious tears. Jensen reached out a tentative hand to pat at him, but Mark was too far gone. Any minute now, Jared expected him to stand up and start screaming ‘NO MORE WIRE HANGERS.’ He backed away slowly.

Mark started screaming about how they were all lying to themselves before he ran off. Christian cleared his throat.

“Well…” the goth said lamely. They all looked anywhere but at each other. Worst of all, Mark was completely right. They got up and went on with their day like nothing had happened, but Jared couldn’t quite forget what Mark had said.

*

Jared didn’t know what possessed him that night but he coerced Jensen into sneaking out with him. They hadn’t dared touch or talk or do anything that would give them away up until that moment.

At midnight, well after everybody had fallen asleep because of Mary’s 9:00 PM curfew, they hightailed it to the doghouse.

Jared kept hitting his head on things while Jensen grinned manically. He almost considered giving up and marching back to bed, but then Jensen grabbed him and pushed him down on the ridiculous fluffy satin interior and straddled his thighs. He kissed him hard, sucking Jared’s tongue into his mouth. The sound Jared made was totally in surprise or so he told himself as he skated his hands down Jensen’s back to palm his ass.

Jensen made a low noise in the back of his throat and repositioned himself against Jared’s dick. Jensen arched against the pressure and bit down on Jensen’s lip before he could stop himself.

He tore himself away in shock and surprise. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Jensen’s pouty mouth was swollen red and glistening.

“It was good, it was fine,” Jensen said distractedly, shoving Jared’s shirt up around his armpits. Jared squirmed a little trying to cover himself up, but he stopped when Jensen moaned. “Oh god, do it again," he whispered, fingers tightening convulsively on Jared's shoulders.

Jared kissed him to stop him from making noise. He was struck dumb by the fire that seemed to burn under Jensen’s skin, lighting up his eyes and warming him to the touch. Jensen hissed and rocked back harder against Jared when his fingers whispered tentatively over the other boy’s skin. First the curve of the hip, then the dip of a spine, the wings of his shoulder blades and back down over his ribs and up to his nipples. Jensen twisted and moaned against him as Jared learned his body, etched it into his brain by touch like a blind man.

He tugged on Jensen’s full lower lip with his teeth, amazed at the way Jensen’s hips jerked against his with every pull.

“Jared, I—” Jensen started and then broke off when Jared experimentally licked a stripe down Jensen’s neck. He had no idea what he was doing. He and Alexis, they’d done…that but it had been clinical, like roles they were fulfilling. This was touch and go. Jensen didn’t seem to mind it though. Jared wanted to touch him everywhere, see how dark his eyes could get and how pink his cheeks would turn.

He rolled them over and Jensen smirked up at him. He was so hard he was kind of amazed that it hadn’t just broken off. He was somewhat gratified to feel Jensen’s own dick digging into his stomach.

Jensen hooked a leg over his hip, directing their crotches together, Jared groaned and had to brace himself on his elbows to keep from collapsing.

“Oh, that’s good,” Jensen called, neck listing back at an almost impossible angle. Jared mouthed along it again, sucking on Jensen’s pulse and watching with something akin to amazement as he keened. Jensen had a hand wedged between their bodies, twisting and flicking Jared’s nipple. He twisted and pulled on Jared’s hair with the other, directing his mouth on his neck.

Jared loved the taste of Jensen’s skin, slightly salty, slightly sweet, but mostly clean and fresh like water. Jensen was going to have a hell of a set of hickies tomorrow—he’d probably say they were from Meagan. Jared bit down on the muscle that ran up just under the Jensen’s jaw, shuddering  
when Jensen made another sharp sound of approval. He wanted to own him. Wanted everybody to know who had done this. It was the most self-destructive, sacrificial thing he could've done.

“Try—try rolling your hips—mmmmm," Jensen breathed out. “Gonna come in my pants, Jared, like a—like a twelve year old boy.” His voice was strained and it did funny things to Jared’s head, made him ache and tingle.

Jensen’s legs clamped tighter around him and he pushed up with his hips, body struggling against Jared’s for release. Jared could feel the muscles in his abdomen tensing and then Jensen was coming, cheeks flushed, eyelashes perfect crescents against his cheeks. Jared watched with wonder, breathing hard and erection almost painful, but he found himself lost in stillness, watching as Jensen’s orgasm raced over his nerve endings.

Jared rolled off onto his side to give Jensen his space. There was a wet spot on the front of his baby blue pajama pants from Jensen's spunk and his own pre-come. He watched as Jensen blinked a few times, hunching in on himself for a moment and then expanding outwards when it finally passed. Jared felt his heart do the same.

Jensen’s right hand snuck in the front of his pants, fingernails scraping along the sensitive thin skin of his stomach, down past the coarse hair to wrap around his dick. He stopped breathing for a second as his body acclimated to the sensation of Jensen’s touch.

“You slept with Alexis, right?” Jensen asked, palm brushing over the head of Jared’s dick and robbing him of speech and concentration. Jared merely nodded.

“Did you come?” Jensen whispered, wicked grin back in place. Jared nodded again, eyelids slipping shut and breath coming in harsh pants. “Hard?” Jensen asked. Tongue flicking around the shell of his ear.

Jared bit down on his lip and shook his head. The friction and speed of Jensen’s hand was just right, like he’d decided handjobs were his own personal form of expression. Jared shuddered when Jensen’s callused thumb pressed against the slit and his grip tightened just underneath the head. He was thrusting into Jensen’s hand erratically, completely out of control. Jensen leaned in and kissed him, tongue flickering in and out of his mouth, fucking it.

Jared was on sensory overload. Jensen was spread across all his senses, inside his head, everywhere. Jensen slowed his grip down, sensing that Jared was about to come.

“Look at me, Jared,” Jensen whispered. “Look at me.”

His eyes snapped open and he held Jensen’s gaze even as his dick started pulsing. Jensen just kept stroking, pushing all the sensation out of him. Jared’s breath escaped like he’d run a five mile race and finally he had to push Jensen’s hand away or risk frying his brain.

They lay like that, quiet, the air filled with all that was between them. Jensen’s clean hand stroked down the side of his face and his eyes closed. His body was heavy and he wanted to sleep, but then the door of the dog house was slamming open and Mary flashed a light inside.

It all happened so fast. She dragged them out, shouting. Christian stood behind her, arms crossed. Jared felt sick and Jensen had a broken look on his face. He remembered then, Jensen had been through this.

Mary talked to him and Jensen separately. He zoned out as she shouted at him about morality and ethics and his parents and the list went on and on. Her hair curlers bobbed with every word and she waved a martini glass around like a weapon. He and Jensen would be all right. They’d figure something out. They were in this together. Everything was going to be fine.

“You’re out, young man,” Mary said finally, getting through to him. “And you can’t go home to your parents either, quite a situation you’re in, I would say.”

Jared got to his feet when she opened the door and gestured him out. He made his way back to his room and started packing up his stuff. Christian watched him, unable to keep his wicked smile off his face. Wentworth offered to help him fold. Jared didn’t care, he just wanted to know where Jensen was. He didn’t want to ask with Christian grinning at him like that from across the room.

He finished, all the things that mattered in life tucked away in this suitcase or hidden in a room he could never go back to, and Jensen still hadn’t come back to the room. He decided to go wait for him outside. It felt less toxic. He couldn’t be a part of this awful place anymore. He couldn’t be anywhere near Christian. Jared would’ve broken one of his biggest rules and socked him a good one.

He stopped short when he saw Jensen standing outside on the porch.

“Why aren’t you packing?” Jared asked.

Jensen didn’t look at him, turning to present him with his back. “I’m going to stay.”

“What? How can you?” Jared nearly shouted. Jensen didn’t even appear to notice his reaction.

“I just need to be okay with my parents,” Jensen said, his voice an even monotone. Jared couldn’t believe this. He absolutely could not believe this.

“Fine, let them win,” he whispered viciously, grabbing up his duffle and stomping off down the steps. He passed Mary on the way down. Her expression was cruelly amused, like she was happy that his life was completely over. Rage welled up in him. He wanted to scream and shout and throw things, but the only thing he did was open his mouth impotently.

He walked into the unlit yard and down the long driveway to the highway. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to turn around and drag Jensen with him whether he wanted to come or not. Tom was standing next to a motorcycle under the streetlamp, short shorts replaced by riding leathers.

“Need a ride?” he offered.

Jared nodded weakly, not trusting his voice to speak.

Tom gestured at the motorcycle and passed him a helmet. “Hop on.”

Tom talked reassuringly as they sped off into the night. Jared couldn’t make out most of it over the sound of the wind, but his voice penetrated the numbness that was creeping over him. When they pulled up in front or Eric Kripke-Singer and Bob Kripke-Singer’s house he thanked him and swung his duffle bag onto his back.

The porch light gleamed like a sign of hope and the leaden-feeling in his stomach retreated slightly. He was making his way up the path when he turned back to Tom. “Why do you stay?”

Tom shrugged and smiled sadly. “Someday Mike will come around.”

*

He woke up the next morning to the smell of pancakes. Mary had stale continental breakfast every day and Jared had sorely missed hot food in the morning for the last month and half.

He got up and pulled his jeans on, glad that Bob and Eric hadn’t minded putting him up for the night even if he had woken them at an ungodly hour. The food beckoned and he made his way down the stairs, meeting Eric in the kitchen. The man was all dressed, rainbow cap already in place, and he waved with his spatula.

The pancakes looked delicious and without being told he went to go and set the table.

“Nine places,” Eric called after him as he began laying out place mats on the round table. Jared nodded even if Eric couldn’t see him. He caught sight of his face in the back of a spoon and tried not to think about how morose he looked. If only Jensen had come, but he’d chickened out at the one point that really mattered, when all along he’d been calling Jared a coward for not realizing who and what he was. He tried not to think about Jensen starting the final unit, Simulated Sexual Lifestyle with Meagan today. The thought spoiled his appetite just a little.

He sat down and looked out the window over the bright garden. The yard at True Directions had been all fake pink flowers and dirt. A chair was drawn back from the table with a loud scrape and he turned back to the table. He looked over to see Sandy sitting down across from him.

She smiled brightly at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, dipping his head.

She grinned again, expression forgiving. “Don’t be, I’m where I wanna be now. You maybe sorta did me a favor.”

Food got dumped down on their plates and more and more people roused themselves to come downstairs and dig in. Bob came in later with a grumbled comment about the sad state of the maple syrup, but then kissed Eric sweetly on the cheek.

The conversation around the table was lively, even if Jared didn’t talk, but halfway through breakfast he realized he actually felt better.

But then everybody got up to go on with their day and his melancholia returned. He went back upstairs and pulled out his play book. He could probably go back to school now. He hoped that his spot on the football team hadn’t been lost, but he was only a junior. There was next year. He sat alone in his room, staring out the window. Eric knocked a few times to check on him and then spoke to Bob, whose rumbling growl he could barely understand through the door.

He was fine. Just fine. He could do this forever.

Sandy pushed into the room without knocking after two days. She sat down at Jared’s side and rubbed his arm reassuringly. The sun was high in the sky and Jared felt like he could see for miles, like he could stretch for miles, just detach himself from the awful part of the world and go far away.

“What happened?” Sandy asked after long moments of silence.

He let out a deep sigh. “Mary caught Jensen and me, and we should’ve both been kicked out. It was just after the final test, but...Jensen decided he would rather stay, and he just...he let me go.” There were tears running down his cheeks, salty bitter ones that tasted of regret and heartbreak and mistakes.

Sandy wrapped her arms around him.

When he quieted, she said, “Jensen, huh?”

Jared nodded and gulped, wiping his runny nose with a tissue from the box on the bedside table.

“Not surprising.”

He looked at her as he blew his nose. “It surprised me.”

“I guess you never noticed the way he looked at you,” she said softly. Jared tried to digest this information without resorting to tears again.

Hours passed, lying side by side on the bed just staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to tell her to go, have fun, do something other than be with his lonely self. But he couldn’t, he didn’t want her to leave.

They hadn’t spoken anything for a long time when she sat up suddenly. The bed shook from the force of it and Jared started.

“What if we crash graduation? Win Jensen and Kristen back?”

He stared at her in silence. “It’ll never work,” he croaked, voice hoarse from crying and disuse.

Sandy slanted a look at him. “What have you got to lose?”

At this point? Nothing. From her expression, Jared could tell that she knew it too. Well, hell. Jensen was worth a fight and so was stealing Mary’s thunder.

He felt his mouth turning up in a smile and touched the corners of it in wonder. She cackled.

"Okay," she said, looking pumped. "Now we need a plan."

*

Jared and Sandy stood behind a tree as the procession of graduates made its way down the center aisle. Jared couldn’t believe how many family members and friends had turned up for seven people. The guys and girls had been allowed to dress in normal clothes for the first time rather than ridiculous pink and blue crap, and Jared swallowed as Jensen brought up the rear dressed in what must've been an obscenely expensive black suit.

“Hugo Boss,” Sandy said into his ear.

“I thought you were a lesbian,” Jared replied.

She poked her tongue out at him. “I thought you liked Musicals.”

He gagged. "Fair point."

They watched for a moment longer, waiting for the right moment. Jared tried not to freak out. “Now’s your chance,” Sandy said, shoving him towards row of seats as Jensen passed right by the tree. “Go.”

He ran out and tackled Jensen just behind the last row of seats.

“What?” Jensen cried, struggling underneath him. “What are you doing here?”

“Shh!” Jared whispered furiously, and placed his palm over his mouth. “Come with me!”

Jensen elbowed him in the stomach and bit at Jared’s palm until he let go. “What? Jared! No!” Jensen replied, sotto voce. “I can’t!”

“Why not?” Jared asked.

“Maybe one day, when I don’t need them as much as I do, but now—”

Jared choked. “Jensen, you don’t need anybody who doesn’t love you, all of you.”

Jensen looked away. “Get off me. I have to go.”

“Jensen,” Jared whispered pleadingly, his heart on his face.

Jensen got that same look on his face that he always did when he was upset, complete blankness.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was like iron, and Jared knew he had to give it up. He rolled to the side. Jensen dusted himself off and then rejoined the line. Jared lay in the grass for a second wondering if he was going to cry. It felt desperately like he was, but the tears weren’t coming. He must’ve been beyond that now.

He got dejectedly to his feet and walked slowly back to the car. Kristen and Sandy were in the back of the van, peppering each other’s faces with kisses. Kristen was in tears, going on and on about how much she missed Sandy.

They looked up when he climbed in. “Where’s Jensen?” Kristen asked, hands still tight on Sandy’s waist.

Jared sighed. “He’s not coming.”

The rest of the people who’d come along made empathetic noises. He sighed. Sandy glared at him. She pushed him back out of the van with her foot.

“Nuh-uh!” she cried. “You are not giving up!”

“But I—” he fell on the grass outside the car with an oof.

“Jared,” she said, her voice stern. “You aren’t coming back until you’ve got him.”

Jared gulped. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled and then turned back to Kristen and started kissing her again. Jared rolled his eyes.

Right.

He could totally do this. A whole boat load of them had come in two separate cars and he wheedled until they let him drive back to the house. He knew Gabriel and Tristan had been on the cheerleading squad back in their high school and he stormed into the house looking for them. When they saw Jared's determined face they grabbed their old cheerleading uniforms and scrambled into them.

They didn’t match and male cheerleaders didn’t carry pompoms, but hey, as a last resort, he was willing to do pretty much anything. He drove them back to True Directions at breakneck speed with Gabriel holding onto the dash white knuckled while Tristan laughed uproariously. He pulled his old football jersey over his head: Hawks 06.

He'd forgotten to find a football, but he was in luck. When he got to True Direction he found one lying on the ground from their tests and he picked it up as he sprinted towards the stage.

Gabriel and Tristan shouted out behind him “HUSTLE, GET TO IT, QUEERS, LET'S DO IT!” and clapped. Jared walked down the center aisle, drawing the football back and letting it sail with just the right amount of spin. It hit Jensen in the chest as he was climbing up the stage.

“I love you, you asshole!” Jared yelled, hands cupped around his mouth.

Jensen looked torn. Jared heard somebody’s whisper to the person sitting next to her, “That boy doesn’t look gay!” Jared wanted to laugh. He’d learned that now. Being gay wasn’t about how you looked or behaved. If that were the case then he’d be as straight as they came.

He smiled winningly at Jensen. It was all or nothing here. “C'mon, you know you always wanted to date the captain of the football team!”

Jensen’s shattered expression resolved itself into a smile. “You’re not the Captain.”

“But I will be!” Jared called back and then Jensen was leaping off the stage, running towards him, despite his parents’ shouts. He jumped at Jared, slamming into him hard, and Jared laughed and twirled him around in a circle. And then they were kissing, right there in front of everybody while mothers and fathers and sisters and cousins and aunts and uncles shrieked in dismay. Jared just smiled against Jensen’s lips and continued like he didn’t notice.

They heard the cock of a gun and pulled away from each other. Mary was standing on the podium with rifle in hand and Jared’s eyes bugged out.

“What the fuck!” Jensen shouted, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. He grabbed Jared’s arm and started running towards the open door of the van. Everybody inside cheered them and shouted for them to hurry and then they were away, inside, safe.

Together.

*

He spied the article when he was in the check-out stand at the grocery story. There it was on the front page of the New York Times in bold ink: “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve: Solution to Homosexuality or just another refusal to see that being gay is okay?” by Wentworth Miller. He should have realized all along that that that was what Wentworth was doing there. That guy was way too smart to take those soap boxers seriously. He bought the paper, despite never going near newsprint in his entire life, and resolved to read it that very evening.

Okay, well maybe he’d get Jensen to read it and tell him what Wentworth had written.


End file.
